The Lord's Bowling League
I agreed to go bowling because I am a Good Sport and there was the prospect of vodka. Mostly, it was the prospect of vodka.
First, I had to stop in the shoe store and buy socks. I also bought a pair of shoes, but they were on sale and for next summer so they don't really count. I had a choice of socks. I could purchase six pair for $8 or one pair for $6. I am a sensible shopper and so I bought one pair. It was a better deal than buying a half dozen and throwing five pair away (that's a savings of $2).
I was invited by a guy who owns a "modeling" agency and was meeting a group of people that I didn't know. I assumed that I would be bowling with really attractive cokeheads, which sounded like fun.
Naturally, I stopped at the bar for a martini first. I would need it, if I was going to put my feet in someone else's shoes. I always carry a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer in my purse. As I slipped my feet into the slightly moist shoes, I comforted myself with the knowledge that in an hour, I would be slathering my feet in hand sanitzer.
I walked over to our reserved lanes. "Excuse me," I said to the dowdy woman in my lane. "I think you may be in the wrong place." She was clearly not a model. "You must be Mist," she said. "I've heard about your hair." I thanked her for noticing my amazing curls and assumed that she must be an agent. I looked around. I was bowling with the frumpiest group of people that I had ever seen. Everyone wore fleece. Also, many of them owned there own bowling shoes. I was confused. But because I am a good sport (see reference above), I decided to bowl.
I am not a good bowler. My goal was to bowl my weight, but after four frames, I had bowled a thirteen. I weigh just over thirteen pounds. I decided that I had better reset my goals. I was determined to bowl my IQ.
I ordered a round of shots. In situations like this, I find that shots always help.
Eight Hollywood shooters arrived. The owner of the agency leaned over to me and whispered, "this is my Bible study group. We don't drink." I rolled my eyes and told him not to worry, the shots were for me. I wish he had told me that this was his Bible study group before I made everyone uncomfortable with all those ball comments (i.e. "Six pound balls are soooo hard to find" and "I've never seen more beautiful balls" and "I hope I'm not sore tomorrow from all these balls" and on and on and on). It is nearly impossible not to talk about balls when you are in a bowling alley. It's just one of those things. With the right audience, I would have been a riot. Or molested.
Eight shots later, I was still bowling a thirteen. Consistency is very important to me. I had managed to refrain from making any more ball jokes, which was a victory as well.
As we ended the game and I rubbed my feet with hand sanitizer, one of the men asked me if I wouldn't mind helping him with all the balls. I told him that he looked like he could handle plenty of balls and I walked away to exchange my shoes.
It was only five balls. Amateur.